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The Works of John Hookham Frere In Verse and Prose

Now First Collected with a Prefatory Memoir by his Nephews W. E. and Sir Bartle Frere

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(Continued.)

April 23, 1798.
Alas! that partial Science should approve
The sly Rectangle's too licentious love!
For three bright nymphs the wily wizard burns;—
Three bright-eyed nymphs requite his flame by turns.
Strange force of magic skill! combined of yore
With Plato's science and Menecmus' lore.
In Afric's schools, amid those sultry sands
High on its base where Pompey's pillar stands,
This learnt the Seer; and learnt, alas! too well,
Each scribbled talisman, and smoky spell:
What mutter'd charms, what soul-subduing arts,
Fell Zatanai to his sons imparts.

95

Gins—black and huge! who in Dom-Daniel's cave
Writhe your scorch'd limbs on sulphur's azure-wave
Or, shivering, yell amidst eternal snows,
Where cloud-capp'd Caf protrudes his granite toes;
(Bound by his will, Judæa's fabled king,
Lord of Aladdin's lamp and mystic ring.)
Gins! ye remember!—for your toil convey'd
Whate'er of drugs the powerful charm could aid;
Air, earth, and sea ye search'd, and where below
Flame embryo lavas, young volcanoes glow,—
Gins! ye beheld appall'd th' enchanter's hand
Wave in dark, air th' Hypothenusal wand;
Saw him the mystic Circle trace, and wheel
With head erect, and far-extended heel;

96

Saw him, with speed that mock'd the dazzled eye,
Self-whirl'd, in quick gyrations eddying fly:
Till done the potent spell—behold him grown
Fair Venus' emblem—the Phœnician Cone.
Triumphs the Seer, and now secure observes
The kindling passions of the rival Curves.
And first, the fair Parabola behold,
Her timid arms, with virgin blush, unfold!
Though, on one focus fix'd, her eyes betray
A heart that glows with love's resistless sway,
Though, climbing oft, she strive with bolder grace
Round his tall neck to clasp her fond embrace,
Still ere she reach it, from his polish'd side
Her trembling hands in devious Tangents glide.
Not thus Hyperbola:—with subtlest art
The blue-eyed wanton plays her changeful part;
Quick as her conjugated axes move
Through every posture of luxurious love,
Her sportive limbs with easiest grace expand;
Her charms unveil'd provoke the lover's hand:
Unveil'd, except in many a filmy ray,
Where light Asymptotes o'er her bosom play,
Nor touch her glowing skin, nor intercept the day.

97

Yet why, Ellipsis, at thy fate repine?
More lasting bliss, securer joys are thine.
Though to each fair his treacherous wish may stray,
Though each, in turn, may seize a transient sway,
'Tis thine with mild coercion to restrain,
Twine round his struggling heart, and bind with endless chain.
Ellis.
Thus, happy France! in thy regenerate land,
Where Taste with Rapine saunters hand in hand;
Where, nursed in seats of innocence and bliss,
Reform greets Terror with fraternal kiss;
Where mild Philosophy first taught to scan
The wrongs of Providence, and rights of Man;
Where Memory broods o'er Freedom's earlier scene,
The Lantern bright, and brighter Guillotine;
Three gentle swains evolve their longing arms,
And woo the young Republic's virgin charms;
And though proud Barras with the fair succeed,
Though not in vain th' Attorney Rewbell plead,
Oft doth th' impartial nymph their love forego,
To clasp thy crooked shoulders, blest Lepaux!
So, with dark dirge athwart the blasted heath,
Th̄ree Sister Witches hail'd the appall'd Macbeth.
So, the Three Fates beneath grim Pluto's roof,
Strain the dun warp, and weave the murky woof;
Till deadly Atropos with fatal shears
Slits the thin promise of th' expected years,
While 'midst the dungeon's gloom or battle's din,
Ambition's victims perish, as they spin.
Thus, the Three Graces on the Idalian green
Bow with deft homage to Cythera's Queen;
Her polish'd arms with pearly bracelets deck,
Part her light locks, and bare her ivory neck;
Round her fair form ethereal odours throw,
And teach th' unconscious zephyrs where to blow;
Floats the thin gauze, and glittering as they play,
The bright folds flutter in phlogistic day.

98

So, with his daughters Three, th' unsceptred Lear
Heaved the loud sigh, and pour'd the glistering tear:
His daughters Three, save one alone, conspire
(Rich in his gifts) to spurn their generous sire;
Bid the rude storm his hoary tresses drench,
Stint the spare meal, the hundred knights retrench;
Mock his mad sorrow, and with alter'd mien
Renounce the daughter, and assert the queen.
A father's griefs his feeble frame convulse,
Rack his white head, and fire his feverous pulse;
Till kind Cordelia soothes his soul to rest,
And folds the parent-monarch to her breast.
Canning, Ellis, and Frere.
Thus some fair spinster grieves in wild affright,
Vex'd with dull megrim, or vertigo light;
Pleased round the fair Three dawdling doctors stand,
Wave the white wig, and stretch the asking hand,
State the grave doubt, the nauseous draught decree,
And all receive, though none deserve, a fee.
So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides
The Derby dilly, carrying Three Insides.
One in each corner sits, and lolls at ease,
With folded arms, propt back, and outstretch'd knees;
While the press'd Bodkin, punch'd and squeezed to death,
Sweats in the mid-most place, and scolds, and pants for breath.
(To be continued.)